Words from a Painting
by moonlightbelle
Summary: Rachel is asked to create a painting depicting the seven of the prophecy. Takes place after the Giant War. One-shot. (hopefully, if I am correct, the story is better than the summary. But it's really your opinion .)


**Hi! If you could please take the time to read this fanfic, I would really appreciate it. This is an idea influenced by another story here on . Some of you may know it as _Shell Size Studies_. It's listed under one of my favorite stories. Check out the author ** conjure-at-your-own-risk **! I hope you have a _absolutely wonderific_ day! **

**xoxo**

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"Hold still!" Rachel glared at him so fiercely he thought her eyes would shoot out lasers or something. She shut one eye and squinted at him through the frame her hands made up.

"I am!" Percy insisted, widening his eyes to make his answer seem more believable.

Rachel paid no attention to his reply. She made a dissatisfied sound and moved the frame around, looking for the best possible angle that "would capture his essence _perfectly_." Percy stood there awkwardly, his sword arm aching from holding it up in a, supposedly, victorious stance. It didn't seem very victorious. He felt like an out-of-place utensil in his mom's kitchen supply drawer. Which is to say a lot, because he usually misplaced everything, and _everything_ is basically out-of-place.

The painter found the right angle, and in an "aha!", disappeared once again behind the easel. Percy blew a piece of his hair out of his face. It flopped back into his eyes, and he shook his head, annoyed. It was at that moment that Rachel looked back to observe Percy.

"Percy!" Rachel shrieked, after a moment of terrifying silence. "You just ruined the angle! It was the perfect lighting and pose!" She sounded so mad Percy imagined her running around, waving her arms in the air like a madwoman. Or madoracle. Or something.

Percy attempted a smile of apology, but it came out a wince. "Sorry?" His voice was squeaky and high, like it'd been during his puberty stages and he hadn't had his growth spurt yet. Man, he hated those days. But running around with his friends was worth it. Besides the fact that the world was out to get them, literally. But otherwise, running around with his friends saving the world had definitely been time-consuming, but a great bonding exercise. Percy could see it now in bold letters:

 **New summer program!**

 **Bond with your friends like never before!**

 **Fun quests to earn great reputation!**

 **Warning: death (might) (may) will most likely occur**

Rachel huffed, folding her arms. "Good thing I'm almost done. I just had to make a few minor adjustments. You're lucky, Jackson." She sounded threatening, and Percy swallowed.

"So can I get off of this rock now?" He motioned to his feet with a nod of his head. Percy was standing on a large boulder that Rachel said would later become waves, but Percy didn't see it. He kept his stance, afraid that if something else goes wrong, Rachel would come barreling towards him with a murderous paintbrush. Given that Percy could beat Rachel in battle any day, he was still terrified of the gleam in her eye that she would get whenever she got mad. It was only intensified by a slight greenish glow that came with being the Oracle of Camp Half-Blood. Some days, Percy thought she'd turned into a glowing green fortune teller, which in a way, is true. It didn't help that she had these stages of "artistic inspiration".

"Sure, sure. Whatever," Rachel waved Percy down. Percy hopped down the boulder, scrunching up his nose when his shoulder stung from being held in the same place for too long. He sauntered over to Rachel, who was adding the finishing touches to the painting. With a few more swipes with her weapon (Rachel considered all of her small objects a weapon, ever since she threw the infamous hairbrush at Kronos and hit him directly in the eye. Truth be told, she had a pretty good aim), she set the brush down and with a satisfied smile, wiped her hands on her painting apron, which was covered with doodles, much like the rest of her clothes. Percy stood on the back side of the easel, so the painting was completely obscured from his view.

"Tell me why we had to do this again?" Percy asked, setting his chin on the top of the easel so he could look at Rachel's paint-streaked face. She gave him a pointed look and motioned with her hands to the other covered paintings, stacked on top of each other on the table tucked in the corner of her cave.

"Chiron thought it would be nice to have a painting depicting you seven of the prophecy, seeing as you've won the war against Gaea and all," she said, nodding appreciatively. "I've already done the others, and you were the last on the list."

Percy whined. "Why was I last?" Rachel sighed, narrowing her eyes at him in disbelief, as if saying; _this guy will be the death of me_.

"There was really no particular order that went with it. You've just been the busiest," Rachel explained. "I'm going to merge all the paintings together to create a mural." Her voice was giddy from excitement. "I've never done something like this before."

Percy nodded. Then, he asked, "can I see it?" Rachel shook her head vigorously.

"Not yet. I want you all to see the finished result, which won't be happening for a couple more weeks."

Percy's shoulders slumped. Then he perked up, a relieved smile on his face. "I'll have time to rest my shoulder then."

Rachel rolled her eyes and shooed him out of the cave, where Annabeth was waiting.

The blonde watched them with intense amusement. She walked up to meet them halfway. "Has my boyfriend been giving you trouble?" She joked. Rachel sighed.

"You have no idea. I almost considered repainting him because he was moving so much." Looking at Percy's horrified expression, the two girls snickered. Annabeth took his arm and dragged him away.

"We'll leave you to be," Annabeth called over her shoulder, waving at the red-head. Percy grumbled a goodbye, in which Rachel returned a wide smile and a flutter of her fingers.

And with that, the couple left the Oracle of Delphi's residence and walked back to Camp Half-Blood.

* * *

 _A few weeks later_

Percy and Annabeth trudged through camp, hands interlocked. There was laughter and shouts all around. Everyone was relaxed. Since Gaea's defeat, not much monsters have attacked campers, if at all. It seems as if they recognized that these puny demigods could rival _the earth itself_ , and decided wisely not to provoke an attack. Of course, pranks have then since increased in attack power, which still had everyone on edge whenever Travis and Connor Stoll were in the room.

The pair walked to the Big House, which was, holding up to its name, big. At the entrance, Annabeth turned to him, a smile on her face. Percy looked at her, confused, until she leant up and pecked him on the lips. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he kissed her forehead tenderly in return. They gazed lovingly at each other before Percy wrapped his arm around her waist and led her into the building, making a small blush creep onto Annabeth's cheeks. It was these little signs of affection everyday that had them so in love.

Inside, there was a big canvas attached to the wall, covered by a flimsy piece of light gray cloth that stretched from corner to corner. A crowd was gathered at the bottom, surrounding the painter herself and Chiron, the camp director. Rachel beamed when she saw the two come into view, and Chiron hushed the crowd, who were whispering excitedly for the reveal. Chiron cleared his throat when everyone was silent.

"As all of you know, the last war against Gaea and her army has been particularly stressful..." Chiron began. Percy zoned out, focusing on Annabeth's attentive grey eyes. His gaze moved to her curly hair, tied back in a ponytail. It, however, seemed unable to be tamed, and random strands of curls popped out of the elastic. Percy loved these little things about Annabeth, whether she knew it or not. Sensing his stare, she turned and looked him in the eye. They didn't say anything for a moment, and after a while, Percy reached out and put his arm across her shoulders. She sighed in content and let her head rest on his shoulder. Though they were pretty similar in height, Percy was taller by a few inches, thanks to his sudden growth spurt during the 8 months they weren't together, when he was taken to the roman camp. Annabeth remembered being so worried she would cry herself to sleep at night. Their happy reunion had lasted a short amount of time, but in the end, their situation had worked out. Both camps were happy, and there would be no future conflicts. Hopefully.

"-and we give thanks to the hard work that you've _all_ put into this war," Chiron concluded, finishing off with a round of applause, mixed in with a couple of hoots and hollers. He clasped his hands together and turned to Rachel. The Oracle smiled brightly and waited for her cue to draw the curtain. Chiron nodded, and the crowd held its breath as Rachel tugged on the drapes. The cloth fell to the marble floor, tumbling into a heap at her feet. But no one was looking at the fallen cloth. All of their attention was riveted at the mural on the wall. Annabeth gasped beside Percy, her hands coming up to cover her mouth, as if in a trance. Percy watched around for the campers' reactions first. There were awed looks on many of their faces, and surprise etched on the others. Taking it as a good sign, Percy raised his eyes to painting. What greeted him shocked him into oblivion.

It was the seven of them. Each molded into the same scene; a violent shade of purple in the sky, complete with dark, clouds. But the sun shone from the edge of the horizon, symbolizing hope and a future. Around them, there were rolling hills and wheat fields, but somehow, Rachel had made them look menacing, dangerous. But it was the demigods that attracted so much attention.

Frank was towards the back, a purple cape fluttering behind him. He had a proud expression on his face, but at the same time, it remained kind. He held a spear in one hand, with a bow and arrows hanging off his other arm. Beside him, Hazel stood, one hand spread out into the distance, holding a flicker of green smoke. Her hair was lose around her shoulders, where she sported a roman breastplate, decorated with small rubies. Her gold eyes were twinkling, as if she had to contain her laughter.

Jason stood in front of them, placed strategically lower, so he wouldn't block them from sight. He wore an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, but the sleeves had been torn, showing off a SPQR tattoo. He had a calm gaze on his face, looking directly at the viewer. His hands were equipped with a golden shield. Piper knelt to the right of him, flashing her dagger with her right hand, like she was about to cut off the hands of whomever tried to cross her path. She had a confident gleam in her eyes, which Rachel managed to paint all the swirling colors she often had in them. Her braid whipped out around her head. A single white feather grazed her shoulder.

To the left of Jason, Leo stood with one knee bent, a mischievous expression on his face. The corner of his mouth was quirked up in a half smile, and an eyebrow was lifted. His left hand was held in front of him, a bright orange flame dancing across his palm. His hair was dark and curly, and his face had ash on it, like he'd been spending too much time in the engine room.

At the bottom of the formation, there were two demigods. One a guy, one a girl. The boy held his right arm up, a bronze sword in hand. His face, bloodied and dirt-streaked, was tilted up, facing away from the eyes of the viewer. But his expression was easy to read. He had a determined gaze in his bright green eyes, and Percy could understand, for the very first time, why people had called them "seagreen." There were hints of blue, green, and the occasional speck of yellow and purple swirling within the orbs. His mouth was set, as if preparing to fight his last battle. His other hand was clearly shown to be grasping another tan hand, which led to a blonde girl with princess curls that framed her face perfectly. She wore a tattered, worn out white tee, with dirt and mud stains all over it. In her right hand, she held a small dagger. In the other, she held a longer sword. She was crouched down, looking directly at the viewer. Her intense grey eyes made it hard to look directly at her face, but there was a clear signal in it: I will defeat you and come out alive. Her face had cuts and scrapes on it, but Percy didn't think she'd ever looked more beautiful. Compared to the other demigods, it appeared as if they'd been through Tartarus. Which was understandable. Considering they have.

The entire painting was filled with a desperation at a chance of a future, clinging onto hope. But there was a clear connection between the seven demigods, their friendship strong, and it was clear that they were not to be tested with. There was a moment of silence while everyone admired the painting, before everyone clapped their hands and laughed, appraising the young painter, who smiled and thanked the appraisement.

After the excitement had died down, the seven demigods themselves came up to Rachel. Frank scratched the back of his neck nervously. Hazel smiled warmly at everyone. Jason had his arm around Piper, and they were laughing at a joke he'd just made. Leo was fidgeting with a piece of metal and wires. Percy and Annabeth walked to the group, smiling. In a bunch of useless stumbling and muttered curses, the group laughed and came together in a big hug, Rachel included. They sat down in a heap, and talked. And talked. And talked.

And for that moment, everything was perfect.

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 **Thank you for taking the time to read this! I haven't had time to edit this, but I hope the general idea is known :)**


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